Falling Stars
by Roni Black
Summary: COMPLETE - sequel to My Princess! A story about Monica, Hermione and Draco's daughter. Finding out things about yourself is not always fun, but when you look up to the sky and see a falling star, you can at least wish for a better tomorrow. R & R.
1. Chapter One: Monica's First Day

Author's Note: I hope you guys are not too angry, but I removed my last story, The White Rose. I just didn't like it very much. :-S Anyway, this is the sequel to My Princess and I hope you'd like it! Have fun!  
  
***  
  
Chapter One - Monica's First Day  
  
Eleven-year-old Monica Malfoy entered the Great Hall, shaking all over, with the other first-years. McGonagall led them along the hall and Monica could feel the eyes of the people who were sitting near the table on her and on the other new students.  
  
"When I call your name, you will put on the Sorting Hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," said Professor McGonagall to the first-years. She drew out a long roll of parchment and started to read out names. "Aniston, Katelyn!"  
  
Every student whose name was called stepped up to the stool and put the Sorting Hat on, and after a moment's pause the hat shouted the right house for him.  
  
Monica knew this was going to happen. Her mother, Hermione, had told her all about that. "The Sorting Hat is very ancient," she had said. "It once belonged to Great Godric Gryffindor himself. When you put it on, it can read your mind and decide according to your nature which house is perfect for you. The Sorting Ceremony is very important and very fun, too. You'll see."  
  
And now she was here, all alone, in front of the whole school, about to wear the hat and have the name of her house shouted so everyone can hear. Why couldn't she put it on in a private room?  
  
"Malfoy, Monica!" said Professor McGonagall.  
  
That's me, Monica said to herself, and sighed silently as she walked uncertainly to the stool, sat down, and closing her eyes - as if expecting it to swallow her head - put the Sorting Hat on.  
  
"Oh," said a small voice in her ear. "What have we here? A new Malfoy. Every single Malfoy in the past has gone to Slytherin, haven't they? So you will... hold on."  
  
Monica tensed. What was wrong?  
  
"You are not a typical Malfoy, not a typical Slytherin," said the small voice. "How come? Oh, I see it now, your mother was Hermione Granger - wasn't she? Interesting combination, may I say, a Malfoy and a Gryffindor. Oh, not only a Gryffindor, but also a Muggle-born. I assume your father has changed a bit."  
  
Monica remained silent, her eyes still closed. Why wouldn't this hat just say her house?  
  
"All right, all right, I will now decide," said the voice. "Hmm, so what have we got here? Brains... not bad. Courage... definitely. Lots and lots of talent, I see, just like your mother's... so what shall I do with you? I think you belong in... GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
"Thank you!" Monica thought happily, took the hat off and went to the Gryffindor table, where they greeted her with loud applause.  
  
"Hullo, Monica," said Kenny Weasley, a fourth-year with red hair. She recognized him at once and smiled. He was the son of Bill Weasley, and she had met him a few times before.  
  
"How are you doing?" said an unfamiliar first-year who was sitting next to her. "I'm Katelyn Aniston."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Katelyn," Monica replied, and they started to chat. Katelyn was a Muggle-born, as Monica soon found out.  
  
"I was so surprised to get the letter, you know," said Katelyn, "weren't you?"  
  
"Uh, no, actually," said Monica, "both of my parents are wizards, so I've kind of known it my whole life. But my mother is a Muggle-born, she told me about the shock she had."  
  
"Wow!" Katelyn exclaimed. "You're a pure-blood! That's awesome. Wait a minute... isn't your father somehow connected with Lucius Malfoy?"  
  
"He's his son," Monica answered, wondering.  
  
"Oh my God," said Katelyn, "I - I don't know if you know that, but Lucius was a very dangerous Death-Eater. That means someone who worked for that evil wizard, Voldemort. I read about him in some book I got."  
  
Monica almost burst out laughing.  
  
"Of course I know he was a Death-Eater," she replied, "that's how he died! But my father is totally different. After Lucius had died, my father became very close with my grandmother, Narcissa, and she was a much better influence."  
  
"Oh, all right," said Katelyn.  
  
Monica took the short pause to glance around to the teachers' table. There was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, whom she had known she would meet - both of her parents had told her so much about this wonderful man. Next to him was Professor McGonagall, and beside her - Monica's breath was caught in her throat - none other than Severus Snape.  
  
Snape was Narcissa's new husband. They had got married six years before, and Monica saw him at the Malfoy Manor a few times, when he came to visit them with Narcissa. Monica now remembered she had once heard someone saying that Snape was a teacher in Hogwarts, but she hadn't given it much thought. And now he was going to be her teacher!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Hermione Granger-Malfoy leaned herself on the counter in the kitchen of the Malfoy Manor and re-read the letter Monica had sent her.  
  
-----Dear Mom and Dad,  
  
I was sorted into Gryffindor! I feel really great. I think it's the best house. Tomorrow we're starting our lessons, I can't wait, I really want to learn magic like I've seen you and Dad doing.  
  
However, I've noticed Severus teaches here! He teaches Potions. Mom, this is the husband of my grandmother. Isn't it a bit unfair for him to teach me? How do you think he will treat me? I hope it'd be OK.  
  
Say hello to Sapphire.  
  
Kisses from  
  
Monica-------  
  
Hermione and Draco had answered the letter an hour before, congratulated Monica for being sorted into Gryffindor and promised her there was nothing to worry about with Snape, because he won't treat her differently than to his other students.  
  
It was the first night in eleven years that Monica spent apart from Hermione, and it was hurting her a little. But she knew Monica was happy, and this was the most important thing. And besides, she had Draco. They were married and had a second daughter, the four-year-old Sapphire. What else could she ask for?  
  
Still, there was something bothering her.  
  
Hermione had never told Monica that she had her as an eighteen-year-old. Nor had she told her that this pregnancy was actually a mistake, nor about Draco's behavior... nothing. Monica didn't know that she was born as Monica Granger, not Monica Malfoy, and her parents changed her last name when they got married, in order to prevent her from wondering.  
  
Now Hermione was wondering whether they had done the right thing. Should they had told Monica the truth? When they had done that, they didn't have any doubts. They wanted Monica to grow safely, peacefully, happily. They didn't want her to know what a jerk her father had been - they didn't want her to love him less.  
  
So they actually lied to her. Hermione knew she would have to tell her one day. She only hoped this day would be far, far away...  
  
"What are you doing here, sweetie?" she heard a voice behind her. The next moment, strong arms were wrapped around her waist from behind, followed by a chin resting on her shoulder.  
  
"Hello, Draco," she smiled warmly and put her hands on his.  
  
"I've just put Sapphire to sleep," he whispered in her ear. "She looks so calm when she's asleep. Do you want to see?"  
  
"Why, of course." She followed him outside the kitchen, then upstairs to Little Sapphire's bedroom.  
  
"Oh," Hermione moaned as Draco opened the door silently and led her in. Her eyes rested on her child, sleeping so sweetly, her long eyelashes resting upon her small, red cheeks. Her soft, light-brown curls fell on her small shoulders. She looked like an angel. Hermione was reminded of Monica as a baby, and how she had been sleeping just like that.  
  
"She is so cute," Hermione smiled at Draco. He smiled back and led her outside again.  
  
"Honey..." he leaned her on the wall, embracing her, "you were looking thoughtful down there in the kitchen... is anything bothering you?"  
  
"Not now," she smiled as he kissed her softly on the lips.  
  
"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Sure I'm sure."  
  
He kept staring at her very closely, and though he didn't say a word, something in his eyes told her he knew she was not exactly telling the truth. They had grown to know each other so well.  
  
"Well," she said slowly, "it's Monica's first night outside the house, at school, and I was... well... wondering if we had done the right thing."  
  
"About sending her to school?" asked Draco, looking amused. "Did you want her to remain uneducated for the rest of her life, just so she could stay near you?"  
  
"No, of course not!" she punched him playfully. "I'm talking about us not telling Monica... you know... the truth about her birth."  
  
"Oh. That." Draco bit his lip. "Hmm... I don't know, Hermione, I thought we agreed on that."  
  
"We did," said Hermione quickly, "it's just that... I'm not so sure anymore."  
  
"Look, sweetheart, we did the right thing," said Draco softly. "We had no choice. We wanted her to have a happy childhood. She is very young, and if we tell her too soon, it may hurt so much that she would never get over it. Let's make a deal, OK? When she reaches her fifteenth birthday, we'll tell her. All right?"  
  
Hermione smiled. "All right." He had always known how to calm her worries and make her smile. "I love you," she added.  
  
"I can't blame you," he replied and winked.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Hope you liked it! I have plans for the continuation, certainly, so don't worry. ;-) However, I'm afraid I won't be able to update every day, because I'm having a terribly busy time at school now. Next week I'll have more time, I think. So please review and let me know what you thought of this very first chapter!  
  
Love,  
  
Roni Black. 


	2. Chapter Two: A New Friend

Author's Note: Sorry for lack of updates, I'm having a terribly busy time in school. :-S But thanks for the reviews!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
That evening, Monica lay awake in bed. She was too pensive to fall asleep. Katelyn, her new friend, was lying in the bed next to hers. Monica was beginning to like her a lot. She could hardly wait for the next day, when her lessons began and she met new people.  
  
She thought about her mom, her dad and her sister back at home. It was a bit difficult to sleep away from them - she had been used to them since she was born, and she loved them a lot. She had a special connection with her parents... something she felt was a bit peculiar, since she trusted them completely. Most kids she had been talking to were surprised to hear this. They said their parents were nice, but their relationship with them was not that close. Monica, however, felt totally open and free with her parents, which she thought was great.  
  
Now they were away - and it wasn't easy. She missed her father coming into her room to kiss her good night. It was their habit - he would come in every night, sit on the edge of her bed and simply talk to her. They had been doing it since Monica could remember herself. She told him everything - her thoughts, her experiences, her feelings. Monica loved this man more than anyone in the world.  
  
Her mother and sister missed, too, but Monica couldn't help missing her father most.  
  
She got up from her bed and went over to the dresser. She silently opened its door and gazed at herself in the mirror.  
  
She was tall and slightly thin - not too thin, though. Her hair was long, and now that it was down, it almost reached her waist - soft, white-blond and curly. It was a like her father's her, only more curly. Her skin was also like her father's, pure-white. Her eyes, however, were identical to her mother's eyes - big, dark-chocolate-brown, with an amused, pensive expression.  
  
Her little sister, Sapphire, was a bit different. Her hair was curly, but light-brown, and her eyes were blue instead of brown, like their father's eyes. Monica wanted blue eyes more than anything - she wanted to resemble her father.  
  
She walked over to the window and looked out. It was dark; the sky was almost black and starry. Suddenly, in the horizon, she saw a falling star.  
  
She immediately felt excited. Her father had told her about falling stars; he told her they had special magical powers, and that if you made a wish upon a falling star, this wish was most likely to come true.  
  
"Unless you wish to grow an extra head or something," her father explained.  
  
So Monica knew she had to wish for something logical - and now, before the falling star was gone. She quickly closed her eyes and mouthed her wish:  
  
I wish I would marry a man like my Dad.  
  
That had been her wish ever since she was a little child. When she first heard about marriage, she declared she didn't want to marry anyone at all. When she was asked why, she replied: "Because I don't want to leave my Dad."  
  
Now she was a bit older, and saw things differently. She still couldn't imagine ever leaving her father, but she knew she would have to do it one day, so what she wished for was to find someone like her father to share the rest of her life with.  
  
She thought this was logical...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
**A few days later**  
  
"Who is this boy?" Monica asked Katelyn. They were in Potions class, and they were studying it with the Slytherins. She noticed a blond, green-eyed boy, who seemed stunningly cute. She had'nt noticed him before.  
  
"I don't know," Katelyn replied, also examining the boy with interest.  
  
Severus Snape entered the class and everybody fell silent. He closed the door and stood by it, looking at them all, making everyone feel very uncomfortable.  
  
"Potions," he said quietly, as if they were in a dying man's room. "The ancient, noble art of potion-making. I have been stunned over and over again to see how little do people know about it, even fully-grown wizards, from whom you'd expect minimal knowledge."  
  
He stepped towards his table. Monica followed him with her eyes, hardly breathing.  
  
Snape started to read the names from his list. He read the Slytherins first, and when he called "McKay, Robin", the blond boy raised his hand.  
  
Monica stared at the boy, and hardly listened to Snape who was moving on with the list, and when he called "Malfoy, Monica" she didn't even hear it, until Katelyn had to punch her hard in the ribs in order for her to pay attention.  
  
Monica jumped. "Oh - sorry, Professor," she apologized.  
  
Snape glared at her, causing her to blush, then moved on.  
  
During the lesson, Monica was trying very hard not to stare at Robin, but it was difficult, especially as Snape was talking about Potions, and she already knew she didn't like it.  
  
She remembered what her father had told her. "I've never liked Potions, myself," he admitted, "but it's really not that difficult, Monica. All you have to do is listen very carefully to Snape's instructions, then do it. And ignore his glares," he added, "he does them all the time, to make you shiver. As long as you ignore it, you can succeed."  
  
So Monica did her best to concentrate on Snape's instructions, but it was too boring. Somehow, gazing at Robin seemed much more interesting...  
  
As the bell finally rang, Monica went straight to the boy. One thing she really liked about herself was - she wasn't shy. She wasn't at all nervous when she met strangers - arriving in a whole new school was something different, of course, but generally, meeting new people was actually fun in her opinion.  
  
So she walked over to Robin and said: "Hey!"  
  
He stopped, looking pretty surprised. "Hi."  
  
"What's up?" she said, beaming. "I'm Monica."  
  
He gave a smile. "I'm Robin. You're a Gryffindor?"  
  
"Yes," she replied, "you're a Slytherin?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
"In London," he replied, "and you?"  
  
"In Scotland, near Aberdeen. Is London really cool like they say? I've never been there."  
  
"Yeah, it's pretty awesome."  
  
They kept talking for a while; then they went out for a walk in the grounds and chatted some more. Monica could see he liked her too.  
  
Later this day, however, Katelyn grabbed Monica and whispered to her: "What the hell do you think you are doing?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" asked Monica, surprised.  
  
"Talking like this with a Slytherin? Are you completely out of your mind?!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Don't you know anything about the Slytherins?" Katelyn demanded. "You're from a wizard family, after all! Don't you know? This house is full of hatred and slyness. Its students do anything to achieve their ends, didn't you know that? Anything! Take Lord Voldemort for example - he was a Slytherin! And what about Salazar Slytherin, this house's founder - he built the Chamber of Secrets!"  
  
"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Monica, confused and alarmed.  
  
"I can't believe your parents never told you that! The Chamber of Secrets used to hold a vicious, huge snake - a Basilisk - and it waited in the Chamber for a thousand years, since Slytherin's death until his heir came to the school to clear it from Muggle-borns."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Because Salazar Slytherin thought Muggle-borns were inferior," said Katelyn hotly. "He believed that only pure-bloods were allowed to learn magic. That's why you would never find a Muggle-born in Slytherin. They are not good enough."  
  
This information filled Monica's heart with horror. She had never heard that about the Slytherins. And then a new thought hit her - her own father used to be in Slytherin...  
  
"What happened later? Has the Heir of Slytherin come to Hogwarts yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm, though her cheeks were on fire.  
  
"Yes," Katelyn replied, "and the Heir was none other than Lord Voldemort himself. He opened the Chamber in his sixth year, but was forced to stop when he understood Dumbledore suspected him. So he left a diary, in which he put a memory of himself - Tom Riddle, a sixteen-year-old. He left the diary behind when he left school. Then the diary reached Ginny Weasley's hands."  
  
"GINNY WEASLEY?"  
  
"Yes, do you know her?"  
  
"Of course I know her!" said Monica, astonished, "she's one of my mother's best friends! And she's married to Harry Potter, who is another friend of my mother's!"  
  
"That's right," said Katelyn, "I know that. So, Ginny wrote in that diary for a whole year - her first year here in Hogwarts - and Tom Riddle's memory wrote her back. She thought he was a friend. She believed he understood her. She didn't know he had plans about her."  
  
"What plans?" said Monica quietly. Her whole body was shaking.  
  
"As Ginny wrote in the diary, she let Riddle know more and more about her, so he gained control. He became stronger and stronger, until he was much stronger than her. Then he could start forcing her into doing stuff, horrible stuff she couldn't remember later, like holes in her memory. He made her open the Chamber of Secrets again and release the Basilisk, so it attacked Muggle-borns."  
  
"And what happened later?" asked Monica, her mouth dry as cotton.  
  
"Harry Potter and his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, discovered everything in the end of that year - they were second-years. Harry Potter killed the Basilisk, destroyed the diary of Tom Riddle and set Ginny free."  
  
Monica gazed at her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry Potter. Ron Weasley. And Hermione Granger.  
  
Her mother, and her mother's best friends.  
  
WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME ABOUT THIS?  
  
Monica lay in bed for long hours, unable to sleep. Why didn't Mom tell me this? Why didn't Dad tell? Even Harry, Ron and Ginny never mentioned anything in front of me!  
  
And Dad... her dad had been a Slytherin. She knew he had. And he was the same age as her mother - which means he was a second-year when this happened. Why didn't he help Harry, Ron and Mom fighting the Basilisk away?  
  
If he didn't help, it doesn't mean he supported this, Monica told herself sternly. So what if he didn't help? Maybe he didn't realize what was going on. Maybe he was confused or afraid. He couldn't possibly have supported this - he married her mom, didn't he? And her mom was a Muggle-born herself!  
  
There was definitely something mysterious about this... and she had to find out what it was. 


	3. Chapter Three: Doubts

The following day, Monica tried to find out more. Katelyn told her that all this information can be found in the book "Harry Potter: A Biography", by Colin Creevey. So Monica went to the library, took this book out and started to read.  
  
Right from the first page, the information shocked her. It said that Harry had been born to a prophecy, a prophecy that was made by Sybill Trelawney. The prophecy was quoted there:  
  
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies - and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."  
  
Monica read this with her eyes wide open with fright. Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort - so that's how Harry had killed him! She knew Harry had defeated Voldemort, but she was completely unfamiliar with the prophecy.  
  
She read on. Harry was born in July the 31st, she knew that. He was born to Lily and James Potter. When Voldemort heard about this prophecy, he started to look for the three of them. James Potter had three best friends: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.  
  
Monica had never heard about Pettigrew before, but she knew Sirius Black had died long ago, and she knew Remus Lupin, because he was friends with her parents.  
  
When she read on, she discovered Sirius Black had been the godfather of Harry Potter. Good to know, she thought, I just wonder how he died? So she read on...  
  
Albus Dumbledore suggested James and Lily use the Fidelius Charm, and James wanted to choose Sirius Black for the secret-keeper, but Sirius thought that Voldemort was after him and conviced James and Lily to turn to Pettigrew. Unfortunately, this was the final mistake that led to the inevitable death of James and Lily. Pettigrew, who had always been weak, had been serving Voldemort for a long time before he became secret-keeper, and the moment he did, he told Voldemort the secret. Thus Voldemort found James and Lily's house.  
  
Then came a description that was so vivid and horrible, Monica could barely read it. Voldemort arrived in the house. James shouted desparately to Lily to take baby Harry and run away. She tried, but Voldemort was to quick. James faught herocally, but Voldemort murdered him and found Lily in the next room. Lily tried to protect Harry. She begged Voldemort for mercy, she asked him to kill her instead, she screamed and sobbed, but Voldemort simply laughed before murdering her, too...  
  
The people were alive in Monica's mind - she could see this all happening... she felt terrible hatred towards Voldemort. She could hear Lily's plea: "Please don't take Harry, kill me instead!" she could hear Voldemort's laughter... Avada Kedavra, and she was gone.  
  
Monica closed her eyes as if she were dazzled. She forced herself to open them. If I don't continue, no one is going to tell me the rest!  
  
After murdering Lily, Voldemort turned to Harry the baby. He put the Avada Kedavra on him, but it was useless. Instead of killing Harry, the curse rebounded upon Voldemort. However, Voldemort had been trying so hard to become immortal before, that the curse did not kill him, but turned him into some sort of spirit, something that was barely alive, and he ran away.  
  
And here was the explanation: Harry's mother had died to save him, and thus she gave him a protection of love, something Voldemort hadn't thought of, and that was why the curse couldn't hurt Harry.  
  
Monica read on the whole story of Harry Potter's life in Hogwarts: how he got the Philosopher's Stone before Voldemort did (with lots of help from Ron and Hermione); how he killed the Basilisk and destroyed the diary of Tom Riddle (and how Hermione had been petrified); the whole story of the Triwizard Tournament and how Voldemort had risen again; the story of the Order of the Phoenix, and how Harry eventually killed Voldemort.  
  
Monica was completely pale by now.  
  
How could they had not tell her this? There was so much to tell - why, why hadn't they told her? Had they thought she wasn't mature enough? She hated being treated to like a little child and they knew it!  
  
And then a thought struck her: if they had been hiding this from her, who knows what else they had been hiding...  
  
Her mind started working furiously. Maybe I'm not their daughter at all! Maybe they kidnapped me from my real parents, a king and a queen in a far- away country, who live in a beautiful palace and have a hundred horses and a lake and servants, and they cry all day and miss their lost daughter, the princess, who is supposed to be with them, wearing beautiful clothes and a silver crown, sleeping in an amazing bed and having a personal servant, and my real name isn't Monica Malfoy, but Rosietta Marduanny! Who knows, I might be the granddaughter of the Russian Princess Anastasia herself!  
  
On second thought, this looked a little bit far-fetched.  
  
And YET, she thought angrily, who knows what else they've been hiding from me? I must know why Mom has never told me about solving the problem of the Potions on the way to the Philosopher's Stone, or about being petrified, or about seeing Voldemort and stuff!  
  
However, when she thought about it again, she realized that her deepest disappointment was not in her mother, but in her father. She was so disappointed in him... because he was the closest person to her in the world, and he hadn't told her anything! Moreover, why hadn't HE participated in the war against Voldemort? He wasn't mentioned in the parts she had read, not even once!  
  
His father was mentioned as a Death-Eater - but there wasn't any connection, she knew her Dad was nothing like his own father. He himself had told her how much he hated his father, how he suffered from him etc. She knew he had been telling her the truth - so WHY hadn't he helped Harry, Ron and her mother fight Voldemort?  
  
She had to ask him about that as soon as possible.  
  
His words rung in her ears, the words he had said the last night she spent at home, the night before going to Hogwarts: "If you ever need anything, if you ever have any question, if you ever feel like talking or if you ever miss me - send word."  
  
So she went to the Owlery and sent an owl:  
  
----Dear Dad,  
  
I've been hearing stuff, and I read a book named "Harry Potter: A Biography". It tells about the life of Harry Potter, and I've discovered a lot of things you and Mom never told me... for example, about the Philosopher's Stone, and the Chamber of Secrets, and the rise and fall of Voldemort - why hasn't Mom ever told me how she helped Harry beat Voldemort?  
  
But moreover, Dad, you used to be a Slytherin - I know you did. I didn't think there was anything wrong about it, until I heard about the Chamber of Secrets. Salazar Slytherin believed that only pure-bloods were good enough to study at Hogwarts, and that's why you can't find any Muggle-born in Slytherin. I was also told that the Slytherin quality is "using any means to get your goals". But Dad, "using any means" is also killing or torturing people, like Salazar Slytherin did... isn't it a little too ambitious?  
  
Why were you in Slytherin? I know you weren't affected by your father.  
  
I've always believed that if you were there, it's a good house. But now I've found out something totally different... Dad, why were you in such a house? When you were my age, were you ready to "use any means to achieve your ends"?  
  
Please tell me you weren't. Please tell me I've been hearing and reading lies. Please...  
  
I love you,  
  
Monica------  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As she looked up to the sky, she was looking for a falling star. She didn't find any, but she held her hands tightly together, closed her eyes and made her wish:  
  
Please don't let Dad be such a person. He's been so good to me, my whole life. I love him more than anyone else, please don't let him be a vicious, cold-hearted Slytherin, don't tell me he used to be one, please!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Wow! Reviews galore! Thank you so much! I'm trying to keep up the updates, 'cause I'm terribly busy these days. Next week I won't be able to breathe, so I don't know if I will be able to update... I guess I won't... don't get mad, and keep reviewing!  
  
Love, Roni Black. 


	4. Chapter Four: Worries and Conflicts

"So what are we going to do?" asked Draco, sitting on the bed in their bedroom, watching Hermione walking back and forth around the room, thinking hard. "Are we going to tell her the truth, about me being an idiot, affected by my father and everything?"  
  
"I don't know," said Hermione, biting her lip. "Maybe you could tell her it's not true? She asked you to, after all, didn't she?"  
  
Draco raised the letter to his eyes and read: " 'When you were my age, were you ready to use any means to achieve your ends? Please tell me you weren't. Please tell me I've been hearing and reading lies.' Yes," he said, throwing the parchment back on the blanket, "she wants me to."  
  
"So do it!" said Hermione, as if this was solving the problem.  
  
"What, and lie to my own daughter?"  
  
"Look, we've been hiding things from her for eleven years," Hermione sighed, "does another lie make any difference?"  
  
"Of course it does!" Draco protested. "Hiding the truth is not like lying. I don't want to lie to Monica. She's my daughter. I wouldn't be able to look at her in the eye after that."  
  
"But we've been lying to her for eleven years!"  
  
"Technically, we haven't. We only never told her the truth - we never lied!"  
  
"Oh, come on, Draco," said Hermione, twitching her face, "you know it's exactly the same as lying and Monica would count that as lying, too. Anyway, it's not the point. Are you going to tell her the truth?"  
  
"Guess I have no choice, do I?" sighed Draco. "All right, I'll tell her. Come over here and help me write it down."  
  
"I can't, I got to go check on Sapphire."  
  
"Oh, give me a break, Hermione! Sapphire will be all right for five minutes on her own. You've got to help me, I have no idea how to start."  
  
Hermione went over and sat on the edge of the bed. "All right," she said. "Why don't you write down this: 'Dear Monica, I don't know how to tell you this, but everything you read was true. I was a jerk when I was in Hogwarts, I was a typical Slytherin etc. etc.. Oh, and yes, your mother and I used to hate each other. Love, Dad.' "  
  
Draco narrowed her eyes at her.  
  
"Fine, I'm sorry!" she said. "OK, let's give it some thought."  
  
It took much longer than five minutes, but eventually the letter was done.  
  
-----Dear Monica,  
  
I wish you were here, so we could discuss this face to face. I'm afraid I don't have very good news. You probably remember that my father was a Death Eater, a servant of Voldemort, and one of the most powerful of them. He was very strong, a great wizard, powerfully magical. He was much stronger than my mother, and since I was a child - also much stronger than me.  
  
When people feel strong, they decide they are worth more than weaker people. This is what my father thought. He decided he was the best of all people, and if he was a pure-blood, then pure-blood is better than Muggle- born. That was the way he brought me up: you are the best. Your family is the best. Muggle-borns are Mudbloods and we don't give a damn about them. Dumbledore is the worst Headmaster that has ever been to Hogwarts, because of his fondnessfor Muggles and Mudbloods. Do anything you can, use any means to achieve your ends. Slytherin is the best house. Hufflepuff is full of idiots and Gryffindor is full of traitors. Lord Voldemort is right about everything he does, and you were born to serve him.  
  
I believed my father, because I had never heard anything else and thought it was true. I didn't understand why I should care about whether someone's parents are wizards or Muggles, but I shut my mouth up, because I was afraid of him. I did whatever he told me to.  
  
That was the reason I had never been friends with Harry, Ron and your mother. Harry had beat Lord Voldemort; Ron was a Weasley, and my father hated the Weasleys - he thought they were traitors; and your mother was a Muggle-born. I simply did what my father had told me to, until he died. And when he died, I finally had a good, long talk with my mother - your grandmother. We discussed the whole issue of the so-called purity of blood, and decided that I would never judge someone according to their origin, but get to know them first. When I went back to school for my seventh year, I felt as if I was meeting everyone for the first time, because I finally noticed their characters, not their origins.  
  
Indeed, this was the year when I noticed I liked your mother, and asked her out. Of course, she wouldn't agreed unless she saw I had changed, but since I HAD changed, she agreed.  
  
Monica, I'm sorry I've never told you all this myself, and you had to find it out like that. The thing is, I guess I didn't want you to find out, because I wanted you to keep thinking of me as the "greatest dad ever", like you had said. This was the reason your mother has never told you about her adventures with Harry and Ron - we knew you'd ask why I hadn't helped.  
  
I just want you to remember that whatever we did, we did out of pure concern and love for you. You are the greatest daughter.  
  
Yours  
  
Dad  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Do you think she would forgive us?" said Draco uncomfortably.  
  
"Why wouldn't she?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Well, we have lied to her for eleven years."  
  
"That's not the serious lie, you know. If she finds out about how she was born - now THAT'S a lie."  
  
"It's not the point! Look, Hermione, what if she decides not to forgive us? What if our relationship with her would never be the same again?"  
  
"It's Monica, Draco. Monica will never do such a thing. We are her parents, she loves us, she will understand, don't worry."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Monica read and re-read the letter over and over again. OK, so her father used to be a jerk. He's changed, though. She can forgive him, right? It's not like he's murdered anyone. It could be worse.  
  
Yes. She was going to forgive him. She wrote a letter back, telling him that she totally understood everything, and it was okay.  
  
It was a relief...  
  
For a brief period of time.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I know this was short, sorry guys, I'm just really really busy these days - you know, school is killing me... I'm doing my best, I really am. All right, the next chapter will be more interesting, I believe, but it's going to take some time, because I think that at least until next Thursday I will not be able to write again. I have two huge tests this week, math and history. Wish me luck! ;-)  
  
Love,  
  
Roni. 


	5. Chapter Five: A New Sister

A/N: In this chapter, I will have to skip some periods of time, because it would be terribly boring otherwise... excuse me if it looks a bit rush.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In Christmas, Monica went back home for a week. She had a long talk with her father, and it was great for both of them to feel that they were close as ever.  
  
Then they got on the roof and watched the sky. They loved doing it, searching the sky together for a falling star...  
  
"Here! I see one!" cried Monica happily, pointing at it.  
  
"Yeah, I see it too," said Draco. He was sitting with Monica on his lap, hugging her tightly. "Let's make a wish."  
  
They both closed their eyes, and Monica wished she would stay that close with her father forever. She loved him so much. She felt that even if her parents were hiding other things from her - she didn't want to know them. All she wanted was to remain close to him forever.  
  
She didn't know that, but this was her father's wish as well.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Sapphire, I'm sorry, but I really have to go."  
  
"And then I won't see you again for six months!" protested the little girl, clinging onto her eldest sister. "No, you're not going!"  
  
"Sapphire, I have to!" Monica tried to put Sapphire down, but the four-year- old screamed and wailed, refusing to let go. "Mom, Dad, I could use some help with her!"  
  
Draco stepped forward and pulled the sturggling Sapphire off Monica. "Let me go!" she protested, but he held her up in her arms and hugged her, and eventually she calmed down and gave Monica a scowl.  
  
"Sorry, sweetie," said Monica anxiously, kissing her on the cheek. She then kissed her parents for the last time, and got on the train.  
  
"Say goodbye to Monica," whispered Draco in his little daughter's ears.  
  
"No!" said Sapphire, frowning, "She's leaving me."  
  
"But she has to go, honey," said Hermione, "she has to get back to school. You'll go there too when you're older."  
  
"How old?" demanded Sapphire.  
  
"About eleven," said Draco.  
  
"WHAT?!" squealed Sapphire, "it's not fair!"  
  
"Bye," cried Monica from the train, which was starting to move.  
  
"Bye, honey!" cried Draco and Hermione.  
  
"Bye, Sapphire!" cried Monica.  
  
But Sapphire merely scowled again. Only when the train was about to round the corner, Sapphire raised her hand, waved it frantically and shouted:  
  
"Bye, Monica! If you get me a present when you come back, I will not be angry with you anymore!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
That summer, when Monica came back home, Hermione was about to have her third child. They all gathered in St. Mungo's. Everyone was there: Draco, Monica, Sapphire; the Weasleys, including Ron with his wife Luna and Ginny with her husband Harry; Hermione's parents; Narcissa and Severus.  
  
Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Granger, Luna, Ginny and Narcissa were inside with Hermione. Draco could come in as well, but Hermione had asked him to watch over Monica and Sapphire.  
  
Sapphire was sitting on Draco's lap, frowning. She didn't really want a younger brother or sister - she enjoyed being the youngest. Monica, however, was extremely excited. She remembered how it had been like four years ago, when Sapphire was born... everyone had been here, too, and they had all been as excited as her.  
  
"Wow, can you believe it?" said Harry, "Hermione is having her third child. Ginny and I only have one child."  
  
He was holding a charming little boy, about Sapphire's age, named Chris. Little Chris' hair was red; his eyes were sparkling green; he was freckled, but not all over; when you looked at him, you could see the resemblance to both of his parents. Chris and Sapphire were good friends, but Sapphire was having one of her 'moods' at the moment, so she was not able to play with Chris.  
  
"Daddy, when am I going to have a little sister?" asked Chris.  
  
Harry smiled. "I don't really know, Chris, but it may be soon."  
  
"But Sapphire already has two sisters, why can't I have one?" Chris insisted.  
  
"You will, I promise you."  
  
"Dad," said Monica to Draco, "aren't you excited?"  
  
"Why, of course I am," said Draco, surprised. "I'm about to have a third child, I'm naturally very excited."  
  
"You don't look excited," said Monica.  
  
"Because there's no reason to be excited," said Sapphire moodily.  
  
"And he must be used to it," Chris added.  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Monica.  
  
"He already has two kids, so he's been here twice, right?" said Chris.  
  
Monica looked at her father.  
  
"Of - of course," said Draco quickly. "I've been here, twice." He exchanged glances with Harry.  
  
"How was it when I was born, Daddy?" asked Sapphire, "Were you excited?"  
  
"Yes, I was very excited," said Draco warmly, hugging his daughter and kissing her hair. "It was fabulous, knowing that I was going to have another child."  
  
"And how was it when I was born?" asked Monica.  
  
Draco froze for a second; then swallowed hard. His embarrassment lasted no longer than five seconds, for he immediately regained a grin and said cheerily: "Well, it was amazing, of course! I was more excited than I had ever been before - nothing compares to having a first child!"  
  
"What about having a second child?" protested Sapphire loudly, and Harry and Monica laughed; but before Draco could answer, Mrs. Weasley broke into the hall, her face white, her eyes glittering.  
  
Draco got to his feet immediately with Sapphire still in his arms; Monica, Harry and Ron also jumped from their seats.  
  
"What's going on?" said Draco urgently, placing Sapphire on her feet.  
  
Mrs. Weasley burst out crying, ran forwards and hugged Draco's neck. "It's OK!" she sobbed into his shoulder; "don't panic - I'm just so THRILLED..."  
  
"It's - it's all right, Mrs. Weasley," said Draco, though he seemed pretty startled.  
  
"It's a girl!" cried Mrs. Weasley, lifting her head and gazing everyone happily, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's a third girl! It wasn't easy for Hermione, though... she's still weak and pale, but the baby is so sweet - she wants you inside, Draco."  
  
Draco nodded and started for the door; Monica and Sapphire instinctively followed, but Mrs. Weasley stopped them. "No, dears, Mommy wants to be alone for a moment with Daddy... you'll stay here for a few minutes, and then you can come in."  
  
"I'll be back in a moment," said Draco, looking over his shoulder at the two disappointed girls, and then he entered the room. After two seconds, everyone who had been inside left the room: Mrs. Granger, Luna, Ginny and Narcissa.  
  
"How's Mommy, Grandma?" Sapphire asked Narcissa.  
  
"She's doing great," said Narcissa, who was stunning as ever, especially for a nearly-fifty-year-old woman - in fact, she didn't look older than thirty. "The delivery was difficult, but the baby is fine and healthy, and so is your mother."  
  
"When are we allowed to see her?" asked Monica impatiently, "I want to see my sister!"  
  
"It would only take a few minutes, honey," replied Narcissa.  
  
*  
  
Draco entered the room slowly, closing the door behind him. In the bed, he saw his wife, his love, sitting with their new baby in her arms.  
  
"Oh, Hermione," he whispered as he moved closer to see his daughter's face, "she is so beautiful. She looks just like you."  
  
Hermione smiled warmly. Draco sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed her. Then he took the baby in his arms. "Look!" he said. "She has your eyes, and your nose, and your hair..."  
  
"How can you tell she's got my hair?" asked Hermione, "she's almost bald, you can't say her hair is curly and bushy like mine."  
  
Draco grinned. Hermione's hair had not been bushy in more than fifteen years, but he knew she was saying that because she was used to. "What do you want to call her?" he asked.  
  
"You should choose."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I chose the names for our two elder daughters," Hermione replied. "I chose Sapphire because of her blue eyes, and I chose Monica because..."  
  
"Because I wasn't there to help you choose," said Draco. "By the way, I had an unpleasant incident with Monica out there. She asked me how it was when she was born - how I felt and stuff, and it was really embarrasing. I know we haven't told her the truth - but lying to her in the face is a little too much..."  
  
"You couldn't tell her," said Hermione defensively, "not in there, anyway."  
  
"But she's twelve already," said Draco impatiently, "when is the right time if not now? Do we have to wait until she has her own children? She might find out about it someday herself, you know, and it's going to be a much bigger shock!"  
  
"We can't tell," Hermione insisted. "It's not the time. She is not ready yet, I'm telling you, it's not the time. I don't know when, but not now, not now!"  
  
Her eyes were full of tears of panic; Draco knew she was still exhausted and excited from the birth, so he decided to drop the subject. "Anyway, you think it's my turn to name the baby?"  
  
"That's right, so it's your turn!"  
  
"All right," said Draco, looking at his baby. "Well... I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and I like the name Samantha."  
  
"I like it too," said Hermione heartily. "We could call her Sam for short..."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Wow, I'm so sorry about this lack of updates - almost two weeks... it has never happened before, I'm really sorry. I've been just so busy. I'll try to update more often from now on. Anyway, I've also succeeded in school... I got 97 in math and 105 in biology. :-) Reviews please! 


	6. Chapter Six: The Illusion Shatters

Important Author's Note: In this chapter, the story REALLY begins. Everything up till now was just an introduction. Here, we have just a very short part which is still about the young Monica, which you don't even have to read, if you're curious. ;-) You can skip and go straight to the next *~*~*~* and read the important part of the story!  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Monica was terribly sorry to leave for school to her second year, because she now had her new sister Samantha, and she thought this was a bit unfair.  
  
"It is unfair," she complained to her father on August the 31st. "Why do I have to leave and Sapphire gets to stay with Samantha as long as she wants?"  
  
Draco did not even answer. They were sitting on the wide window sill and searching for a falling star, as always. Only this night, they couldn't find any. It had happened before, but never when Monica felt so bad.  
  
"I mean, it's not like I don't like school," she kept on complaining. "I really enjoy myself there. I like most of the teachers, even Snape is okay, at least when I get my potion done right. And I get to see grandma, you know, cause she lives in Hogwarts with Snape."  
  
"Your favorite class?..." Draco asked.  
  
"Astronomy," said Monica at once, "I like gazing at the stars, you know." She smiled at him. "And Sinistra is really cool."  
  
"Do you like Defence Against the Dark Arts?" asked Draco. "I remember when I studied in Hogwarts, they kept replacing the teacher every three terms. No one stayed for more than one year. And they were all weird, too. The first one was Voldemort's servant; the second one was an arrogant idiot who kept talking about how brave and smart and handsome he was, only he wasn't - Harry and Ron discovered he had been lying. The third one was a werewolf. The fourth one - "  
  
"Hang on," said Monica, "have you just said 'werewolf'? Are you talking about Remus Lupin? I remember Mom mentioning he used to be a teacher."  
  
"Yeah, that's him," said Draco uncomfortably.  
  
"Do you have a problem with Remus being a werewolf, Dad?" asked Monica, frowning. "You made it sound as if it were wrong or weird."  
  
"No, I don't," said Draco quickly. "I just - " he gave up. "Look, Mon, you know what an idiot I was back then. I was so self-centered and stupid. I didn't like Remus being a werewolf."  
  
Monica simply shrugged. She did not like that fact about her father, who was almost her idol; but she knew he had changed, so she changed the subject quickly.  
  
"Anyway, I like Defence Against the Dark Arts. Kingsley Shacklebolt teaches us, and he's really nice. We haven't studied a lot yet, only simple blocking spells, but it's kind of fun. But it's Katelyn's favorite lesson."  
  
"Katelyn who?"  
  
"My friend, Katelyn Aniston. She likes Defence Against the Dark Arts, she reads books about it all the time while I read my astronomy books. Do you remember the library?"  
  
"Of course, I remember it. I had to visit there so many times when I had homework to be done."  
  
"Yeah, I love it. I borrow books all the time. Madam Pince already knows me. Whenever I go in there, she says: 'Why, if it's not our little Monica'."  
  
"Really? I remember Madam Pince as a bony, irritable, vulture-like woman. She hated students touching her precious books," said Draco. "I remember her once chasing me out of the library, because I dared to fold a tiny corner of a page. She has hated me ever since."  
  
Monica laughed, but her smile was still a little grim.  
  
"What's the matter?" asked Draco.  
  
"I want to see a falling star!" said Monica, "How can I say goodbye to you without wishing upon a star that we will see each other again really, really soon?"  
  
"We can pretend," said Draco, but Monica wasn't convinced; she kept gazing into the sky and sigh.  
  
Draco sighed, too. If only she knew...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Five years later, she knew.  
  
She was seventeen now, in her seventh year, and it was just before Christmas. This year, Dumbledore had decided to have a small Christmas party for those students who were going home for Christmas - Monica, for instance.  
  
Monica had grown a lot in those five years. She was now very tall and her body made most boys drool over her. Her hair was loose and fell on her back in long, beautiful, white-blond curls. When she danced, her hair was almost too shiny to look at. She was wearing black robes which made her hair glisten even more. The best thing about Monica's beauty was that she had no idea how beautiful she was.  
  
Katelyn was dancing next to Monica, and they were having a great time. Later on, a tall, blond, green-eyed guy joined them and danced in front of Monica. She smiled pleasantly.  
  
"Hello, Robin."  
  
Robin and Monica had not been in touch for all those years, but Monica had lately noticed that Robin was not a typical Slytherin - at least not in her opinion. He did not make disgusting jokes about people, nor did he laugh when the other Slytherins did. He was very nice to Monica, and she thought it was unlikely for a true Slytherin. Even Katelyn agreed with her on that.  
  
Maybe he had changed, like her father had, she thought.  
  
They danced for a few minutes; then the music changed to a slow dance. Robin immediately stopped and offered his hand to Monica. "Wanna dance?"  
  
"Sure," Monica replied, took his hand and moved closer to him.  
  
The feeling was unbelivable. Dancing with Robin made her feel as though she was floating on cloud nine. He was an amazing dancer; his hand was on the exact spot on her waist that made her shiver in delight and his other hand, which was holding her own, made tingles spread across her arm.  
  
Monica was just about to ask herself if this was IT, when someone yelled from the other side of the room: "Hey there! Monica!"  
  
Robin and Monica stopped dancing; Monica flashed Robin an apologetic look, and reluctantly turned to see who was calling so tactlessly.  
  
No, this can't be happening to me, she sighed. It was Brendon Flint, a fourth-year Slytherin. Monica's mother had told her this was the son of Pansy Parkinson and Marcus Flint, two Slytherins who used to study in Hogwarts with her, and as she stated very clearly, were also idiots and the only thing they were interested in was insulting people and making their lives miserable. "Perfect for each other," her mother had said.  
  
Naturally, Monica did not respect this boy very much. Brendon, however, HATED Monica. Whenever he passed her in the halls, he made faced at her, sent tripping spells towards her feet, threw frogs and tarantulas at her; when he didn't do that, he simply tried to insult her in every way possible.  
  
Monica did not give a damn about Brendon. Katelyn, however, got upset very easily, and used to have long, tiring arguments with him whenever he picked on her best friend.  
  
"I think he has a crush on you," she once declared to Monica.  
  
But Monica still did not give a damn. "Bite me," she said indifferently and changed the subject.  
  
But what was he doing, interrupting her now, exactly the moment she thought she may had found something she had been looking for her whole life?  
  
Monica had no choice but to answer him. She rolled her eyes and called back: "What do you want?"  
  
"Having fun there, bitch?"  
  
Monica closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again, and glared at Brendon impatiently. "Actually, I WAS having fun, until you showed up to ruin this for me. Thank you."  
  
Robin grinned.  
  
"You should be careful, don't you think so, Mon?" shouted Brendon.  
  
"Careful about what, not looking at your face because it might make me sick? All right, I will."  
  
"No, you stupid bitch," yelled Brendon, obviously enjoying himself more and more. "I'm saying you should be careful about your BOYFRIEND. You don't want to get drunk like your dear Mudblood mother did - do you?"  
  
Monica clenched her teeth; the insult to her mother made her face redden, but she remained self-controlled. "Either say what you mean, or shut up," she called.  
  
"I mean your mother - you don't want to get drunk like she did, do you? Otherwise, your boyfriend may get lucky tonight - " his eyes moved from Monica to Robin, and back to Monica - "I guess he'd be happy, but you probably wouldn't if you get pregnant, would you?"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" shouted Monica. She was starting to lose her self-control; paralysing fear was spreading in her bones.  
  
"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, you slut," screamed Brendon, his face glowing in excitement. "Just a note there - if you do have sex tonight, remember to use protection, or we're going to have a lot of little Monicas around, and we don't want that, do we?"  
  
Monica was standing there as if she were nailed to the floor. She could not move a muscle. She was simply petrified. Then she felt a hand tugging at her shirt, but she couldn't even turn her head to see who it was.  
  
The hand gripped her arm and dragged her backwards, out of the Great Hall, away from the laughing Brendon, until she could see him no longer, but she could still hear his laughter...  
  
The person holding her turned her around forcefully; it was Katelyn.  
  
"Are you OK?" she demanded.  
  
Monica did not answer.  
  
Katelyn grabbed her and dragged her up the stairs, to the Gruffindor common room, and then to their dormitory. She sat her down on the bed and sat down in front of her, waiting for her to speak.  
  
Eventually, Monica opened her mouth.  
  
"Did you know?" she asked in a flat voice.  
  
Katelyn gazed at her for a second; then she dropped her gaze. "Yes," she admitted softly, "I knew." 


	7. Chapter Seven: Something Is Wrong

Monica was feeling the ground shaking. It was an earthquake. Only that earthquake existed inside her head.  
  
No ground underneath her feet; nothing is safe anymore, she could not trust anything or anyone. The firm frame her life had been built around had now proved to be a false one; she had nothing to lean onto, nothing to hold her, nothing to make her feel safe.  
  
She felt exposed to everything that could come her way...  
  
"Monica?"  
  
She raised her eyes to see Katelyn's big eyes examining her worriedly.  
  
"Are you okay, Mon?"  
  
Monica did not answer. She didn't know how much she cared about Katelyn's answer, but she asked anyway: "How did you know?" Her voice was most unlike her own.  
  
Katelyn sighed, still examining her worriedly. "Everybody knew, Mon," she murmured. "It's not just me. There have been rumors for a very long time."  
  
"Years?"  
  
If everybody knew - the whole school - she was the only one who didn't -  
  
"How come you've never told me anything?"  
  
"I didn't think it was my job to tell you," said Katelyn.  
  
"Then whose job was it, in your opinion? - The Messiah's?"  
  
"No, but - " Katelyn stopped talking for a moment. "Are you telling me you didn't know anything? Anything at all? For all these years?"  
  
"You thought I knew? Why would I react like this to something I already know?"  
  
Katelyn said nothing.  
  
"Now, can you tell me?" asked Monica.  
  
Katelyn was taken aback. "Tell you what?"  
  
"Tell me the truth," Monica demanded. "The truth about what Brendon said. I want to know exactly what he was talking about. It's impossible to let the entire school know the truth about me and leave me out of this."  
  
"All right, I'll tell you," said Katelyn. She raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if preferring to look anywhere, just not into Monica's eyes, and began:  
  
"I don't know a lot, actually. I know very few details, and this story is going to be very short. But I'll tell you all I know, and maybe it would help you."  
  
She sighed again: "Your father was a Slytherin, you probably know that, and you also know that he used to be a very typical Slytherin. He's told you that himself. He and your mom were enemies until their seventh year."  
  
Monica stared, waiting for more.  
  
"Your father hated Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and your mother," Katelyn went on. "He called them names, like Potty, Weasel, Mudblood. They hated him, too. It went on like this until Voldemort was killed. Harry killed Voldemort at the end of their sixth year, and Lucius Malfoy - your grandfather, actually, your father's father - was killed as well.  
  
"Your father spent the summer with him mother - your grandmother, Narcissa - and she changed him. Narcissa had hated Lucius terribly, and when he died, she was thrilled. She affected your father, and he changed. He came back for his seventh year completely different. He became much nicer to your mother and her friends. Then your parents fell in love.  
  
"They got together about a month before the prom. On the prom night, there was dancing a lot, and there were drinks. Your parents got drunk. Your father lured your mother to your room, and... and..."  
  
Katelyn swallowed hard. Monica knew what she meant.  
  
"They had sex," she said flatly, "and my mother got pregnant."  
  
"Yes," said Katelyn, a little relieved that she didn't have to say it herself. "She only found out three months later, and decided not to abort. Then... then she talked to your father... she told him about the baby... and he left her."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
Monica jumped from her seat; Katelyn flinched and looked at her fearfully.  
  
"You're lying," said Monica flatly.  
  
"I'm not lying, Monica," said Katelyn desperately, "I'm only telling you what I've heard."  
  
"Oh, are you?" said Monica angrily, "well, you ought to know that what you heard was lies! My father would NEVER dump my mother for getting pregnant. Ever. You have no idea how much he loves her. I grew up with them, I know. My father had changed, you said so yourself. He is the most wonderful person in the world, and he would never leave his pregnant girlfriend alone!"  
  
She threw herself back on the bed and burst out crying.  
  
"Monica - " Katelyn hurried over to the bedside and tried to put a comforting arm on her shoulder, but Monica pushed her off, perhaps a little brutally, because Katelyn almost fell down.  
  
"It's impossible, I'm telling you," Monica insisted as she sat up and forced herself to calm down. "My father would never do such a thing, ever. And anyway, they are together now - aren't they? How do you explain this?"  
  
"When you were six months old, your father was unable to stand it anymore," said Katelyn quietly. "He went back to your mother and asked her to forgive him, and she did."  
  
Monica had been shaking her head frantically, so it already hurt.  
  
"I don't believe it," she said hoarsely.  
  
"Maybe it's not true after all," said Katelyn, trying to comfort her. "You know how rumors spread. Maybe it's that Flint boy who spread it. Maybe he just made it up because he was mad at you. You shouldn't get too excited before you check it."  
  
Monica raised her eyes. "No," she said, "it's got to be the truth. Flint is not intelligent enough to make up such a complicated story on his own."  
  
"Perhaps his friends helped him."  
  
"He doesn't have any friends!"  
  
"Monica, you've just said you don't believe that story. You've said that it's impossible, and maybe you were right. Ask your parents about it."  
  
"Yeah," Monica answered, "right. I can see it now. Hi Mom, hi Dad, merry Christmas! Oh, by the way, I've heard the funniest thing a few days ago. Rumors have it that you two got drunk on your prom night and had sex, and when you found out Mom was pregnant, you dumped her and only came back when I was six months old. Is it true?"  
  
"Do you have to be so sarcastic? It's not funny, Mon."  
  
"You want me to cry instead?"  
  
But Katelyn didn't give up. "Look," she said, "all I'm saying is that you shouldn't overreact before you're one hundred per cent sure that the rumor is true. What's the worst thing that could happen if you asked your parents?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Monica!"  
  
As she got off the train, her two little sisters jumped on her. Sapphire was ten years old and Samantha had turned six last summer. They were both blue-eyed, exactly the eyes Monica had always wanted.  
  
"Hi, guys," said Monica and hugged the two of them. They clung onto her and would hardly let go; Monica's neck was very sore by the time she managed to get them off. Then she turned to look at her parents. Their gazes met.  
  
At that moment, Draco and Hermione knew immediately that something was wrong. Something was very wrong with the way Monica was looking at the two of them. It changed immediately, of course; Monica smiled and went over to hug them; but Draco and Hermione managed to exchange worried glances.  
  
"Are you all right, darling?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Sure I am," Monica replied unconvincingly.  
  
"You've become such a beautiful young woman," Draco flattered his daughter, "you're lucky I'm your father, otherwise you'd be rejecting me right now."  
  
Again, Monica's smile seemed wrong, but she pulled herself together and answered: "Why would I be rejecting you?"  
  
"Aren't I too old for you?"  
  
"I don't know. How old are you, Dad?"  
  
Yes. Something was definitely wrong. Draco exchanged another fearful glance with Hermione. Monica was not supposed to know how old they were, or she could figure out they had her at a very, very young age...  
  
"Don't you know how old I am, sweetie?" said Draco, trying to sound cheerful.  
  
"No. How should I know? You've never told me."  
  
Draco swallowed hard. "I'm... thirty-six," he replied hesitantly.  
  
Monica's eyes rested on him, but she said nothing.  
  
Draco and Hermione's eyes met again. It was almost scary...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Happy holidays, everyone and happy new year! 


	8. Chapter Eight: Just How Wrong?

That night, after a lot of efforts, the almost-crying-from-despair Hermione, Draco and Monica managed to put the girls to sleep. They were exhasted. Sapphire and Samantha were extremely stubborn, insisting to have Monica sleep with them. When she refused, they started screaming and calming them down was a very hard job.  
  
"That's it," said Draco, throwing himself on the couch in the living-room, "I'm totally exhasted."  
  
"Me too," said Hermione, sitting next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.  
  
Monica stared. It was a very romantic picture of her parents as she was used to seeing them together, but now... it seemed a bit fake...  
  
"I'm going upstairs," yawned Hermione and got to her feet. "Good night." She kissed her husband and her daughter and left the room. Monica and Draco stayed alone.  
  
Monica was struggling with herself. Should she ask him now? Or should she wait for a better chance? No. She could not even look at her own father in the eye. Her father had always been her best friend, the person she loved and admired above everyone else. She could not let some stupid rumor ruin all this...  
  
Unless... it wasn't just a rumor.  
  
Her life had been so good until now. Why should she try to discover new things that coud ruin everything? If this rumor was true, she'd better just let it go. She didn't have to know everything. She didn't want to find out new things about herself that could ruin her life.  
  
But something was forcing her to ask, to enquire and find out the truth, no matter the consequences. Because something was very wrong about this. It was impossible to let it go after she had discovered it was there, she couldn't just ignore it.  
  
"Dad," she heard herself saying before actually deciding what to do, "I have a question for you."  
  
"Yes, honey?"  
  
As Draco's blue eyes were raised to her, she was caught by sudden fear and almost regretted everything. What if she was about to ruin her whole relationship with -  
  
"I heard a rumor," she said in a voice unlike her own, and was again caught by surprise when she realized she was saying this, "I heard something really funny - and - umm..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"It's kind of hard to say," said Monica, "because it's not good."  
  
"Well," said Draco, calm as ever, "just say it, and then we could discuss it, whatever it is."  
  
Monica took a deep breath. It's time.  
  
"I heard," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words, "that you and Mom got drunk on your last night in Hogwarts, had sex and that's how I was born. Furthermore, I heard you dumped Mom as soon as you heard she was pregnant, and you two got back together only when I was six months old."  
  
Draco was horror-struck. Had she thrown a bomb in his face, he would have not been that shocked. His mind was numb. He could not think. Only two words kept repeating themselves in his mind over and over again: SHE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS.  
  
He knew it was over. She would never forgive them. He knew Monica. He knew she would burst up and then leave the house or something like that. Hermione's and his plan was proved to be idiotic and naive. They should have guessed Monica would find out sooner or later, but they were not smart enough to think about it!  
  
This whole situation reminded him very much of six years before, when Monica had found out about him being such a jerk in his schooldays. He had been nervous then, too. Nervous about what his own daughter might think about him.  
  
But this was different. This was much, much worse...  
  
Monica saw her father's face, and realized the truth on her own. She sighed deeply.  
  
"It's okay," she said softly, "I knew it was true."  
  
"Monica - " Draco began, not having the slightest clue how to continue the sentence.  
  
"It's okay," she repeated. She got to her feet.  
  
"Monica, wait!"  
  
She wouldn't stop.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hermione!" Draco got into the bedroom, went over to the sleeping Hermione and shook her hard. "Hermione, Monica knows!"  
  
"Uh? What?" she opened one eye.  
  
"Monica knows, Hermione! She knows everything! Everything!"  
  
Hermione gazed at him, unfocused. It was obvious that she hadn't understood a word. "What?"  
  
"Listen to me!" yelled Draco. "It's important! Are you listening?"  
  
"I think so," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.  
  
"Monica knows. She knows about you and me, having sex on our last night in Hogwarts. She knows you got pregnant and I left you. She knows I came back only six months later. SHE KNOWS THAT!"  
  
Hermione sat up immediately, watching him with her eyes wide open and fearful. She tried to talk a few times, but failed. Eventually she swallowed hard and managed to say: "But - but - HOW?"  
  
"Apparently, there has been some rumor going on in Hogwarts lately, and we had the misfortune to have Monica hearing it. She knows everything. And she wouldn't talk to me now. She slammed the door and wouldn't open it. Hermione, what will we DO?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know it was terribly short this time... so sorry :-( I promise, next time it'll be longer. I just felt I had to post what I had managed to write so far, because I haven't updates for ages. Boy, I've had a tough time. I'll try to update more often (I will!). 


	9. Chapter Nine: The Decision

Monica was in her room, unable to decide what to do. There seemed to be two options: locking herself up in this room and never go out; getting out and facing her parents; or running away.  
  
Monica chose the second option. They had it coming, those liars who were the most lousy excuse for parents she had ever seen. No wonder Sapphire was such a freak. Sapphire was deep into Arithmancy, and spent hours in her room studying it. Her usual Halloween costume was of a number chart, and her bed sheets were full of numbers.  
  
It was all making so much sense to her now - her seventeen-year-old parents doing it on their last night; her mother getting pregnant, finding out about it only three months later. She must have been shocked. She probably didn't even want a baby.  
  
I was unwanted. This thought hurt Monica as if a white-hot knife was stabbing her heart. My own mother did not want to have me, and my own father was so unwilling to, that he simply abandoned Mom to have me and take care of my all by herself.  
  
She could not decide which was worse - the deed or the fact they had kept it secret.  
  
Liars!  
  
She used to think she was close with her father. She used to think they were best friends, that there were no secrets between them. How wrong she was.  
  
That was it. She took her trunk, which she had not unpacked yet - she would not stay in this house for another minute. Where was her broomstick?  
  
Monica was one of the Chasers in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She had a Fireloop - the newest version of the Firebolt. She now took her Fireloop out of her trunk, covered herself in her winter cloak and opened the window.  
  
The cool night air washed over her face as she tried to decide where to go. Not to Harry and Ginny's house, that was obvious. They would send her back here immediately. So would Ron and Luna. No, she needed someone who was not in contact with her parents. Had Katelyn been home, Monica would have gone to her house, but Katelyn was abroad to visit her cousins and Monica did not exactly feel like going to France.  
  
And then, the thought striked her.  
  
Robin.  
  
She could go to Robin's house. After all, they were in a very good relationship lately, and after this dance the night before... she felt the tingling spread in her body again, and in the meantime wondered how she could possibly feel passion when her life was so ironically shattered.  
  
Yes, she would go to Robin.  
  
Monica placed the trunk on the broomstick and set off. As she rose up in the air, she could see, very far away in the horizon, something that sparkled like a falling star. And the only thing she could think of, was that it was the first time in her whole life that this sight did not cheer her up at all.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"I must see her immediately," said Hermione at once.  
  
"But she wouldn't talk to us."  
  
"Let me try," said Hermione and got to her feet. She got out of the bedroom and walked upstairs to her eldest daughter's bedroom, fear and worry washing over her. Monica knew that her own mother got pregnant when she had been her age. Would she ever be able to respect her again?  
  
Hermione only knew one thing - she had to see her immediately. She hurried over to Monica's bedroom door and knocked. "Monica? Sweetheart? It's me. We need to talk."  
  
No answer was heard. Hermione, at least, did not hear a word.  
  
She tried again. "Monica - I know you must be very upset, and I totally understand you. You are absolutely right. But honey, I want you to remember that no matter what, I'm still your mother and I love you more than anything. Let's talk."  
  
No comment from Monica.  
  
Hermione tried again. "Please?"  
  
Still no answer.  
  
"Mon, don't do this to me," she pleaded.  
  
When she still couldn't hear anything, she gave up. "Monica, listen to me," she raised her voice, "if you don't open the door this instant, I will open it myself! I'm giving you three seconds to answer - one - " she drew out her wand - "two - three - Alohomora!"  
  
The door cracked open, and Hermione was surprised to see the darkness inside. She stepped in, turned on the lights, and had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming.  
  
Monica was gone.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was almost eleven-thirty P.M., but no one was asleep in the McKay's house when the doorbell rang. After all, it was the first day of Christmas break.  
  
"Robin, get the door, please," cried Mrs. McKay.  
  
"All right, Mom," answered Robin as he walked down the stairs. He went over to the front door, opened it and gasped.  
  
There was Monica Malfoy, the dream-girl of almost every boy in Hogwarts. Her long, blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she was wearing a long, blue winter cloak, on which he could see small snowflakes. She was holding a broomstick - has she flown over here? - and a trunk - why, for heaven's sake? But it was Monica, and as a wet curl fell over her face, he could see she was smiling an embarrassed and a sort of bitter smile.  
  
"M-Monica?!" he choked. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Hello to you, too," she said mischievously, and Robin's heart was suddenly filled with warmth. He smiled back. "Hi."  
  
"So," she said, "what's up?"  
  
That was a very relevant question, thought Robin to himself. "I'm fine," he said, "how about you?"  
  
"I'm a bit cold," she replied.  
  
"Well, come on in," he invited her.  
  
Monica picked up her trunk and stepped inside into the house.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I'm so sorry I don't write longer chapters... I promise to keep trying... I'm just busier than ever... :-(  
  
Burgundyred: Thank you! Oh, and by the way, I know the British spell it Mum, not Mom, but I'm not British... I'm not American, too, but my English is more American and so are my stories. I can't change my style... :-S 


	10. Chapter Ten: The Beginning

Hermione Granger-Malfoy had never been so hysterical in her entire life. Draco, at least, hadn't seen her more hysterical, not even in school before the NEWTs. She was walking around and around the room, mumbling unidentified words to herself, which only made Draco more tense. He tried to concentrate. Think coherently, he told himself.  
  
All right, he thought. You know Monica very well. Where would she go? She was angry and upset, and he totally understood her, but running away like this... it wasn't like Monica. However, Monica WAS sometimes pretty impulsive. She must have done this without thinking straight...  
  
He remembered her telling him in her last letter that Katelyn, her best friend, had traveled to France, and how sorry she was about not being able to meet her in Christmas. So she couldn't be in Katelyn's house.  
  
Maybe she was in that boy, Robin's house? After all, they had become friends the year before, and met several times during the summer. Perhaps she went there?  
  
"Hermione?" Draco tried quietly.  
  
She didn't reply. She kept walking back and forth, muttering to herself.  
  
Draco went out to send an owl to Robin's parents. He had met them in Diagon Alley, when he and Monica went to buy her school stuff.  
  
I truly hope she's there, he thought.  
  
If she wasn't... there were not many other possibilities... and suddenly he realized in terror - if she wasn't there, he might never see his daughter again.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"I ran away," said Monica. She was sitting in Robin's room upstairs, on his bed. She wasn't watching him, but the wall. "I couldn't stay there. It was too much."  
  
Robin, who was sitting on a chair across the room, said nothing. His green eyes were warm and comforting as he was watching her.  
  
"You probably know the whole story," said Monica bitterly and pulled her feet up to the bed, hugging her knees. "Everybody knows it. Right?"  
  
She turned to look at him, and he nodded silently.  
  
"Everybody knew," said Monica, watching the wall again. "Everybody. My grandparents. My parents' friends, whom I thought were my friends, too. Their children knew. The whole school. My friends. My teachers."  
  
"How do you know the teachers knew?" asked Robin.  
  
"Snape knows," Monica answered. "He's my grandmother Narcissa's husband, you know. He knows. And he must have told all the other teachers. And besides, if the students know, the teachers know, too."  
  
"I guess you're right," said Robin.  
  
"And nobody told me. NO ONE. Everybody knew, and nobody told me."  
  
At that point, Robin noticed a tear on Monica's cheek. "Monica," he tried to say.  
  
"It's okay," she said hoarsely. "It's perfectly okay. No problem. After all, I'm sure my parents knew what they were doing. Why telling me the truth about myself? The truth about them? It's none of my business, right?"  
  
"NO!"  
  
Monica raised her eyes, startled.  
  
"No," Robin repeated, more quietly, "they were wrong not telling you. But I'm sure they're regretting it now."  
  
"Oh, that's great," said Monica. "They have been lying to me for seventeen years. But at least they're sorry!"  
  
Robin got up, went over and sat next to her on his bed. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Ad at that point, Monica surrendered. She burst out crying, leaned her face against his shoulder and cried all her bitterness, anger and frustration.  
  
Robin was silent; he simply stroked her hair and waited for her to calm down. It took several minutes, but eventually she raised her eyes and met his.  
  
Her big, dark-brown eyes were red and wet, but their gaze was now suddenly filled with wonderment... Robin was almost unable to control himself... all he knew was that his hands were cupping her face and his lips were descending towards hers. And before he had the time to ask himself whether it was fair to kiss a girl in such a vulnerable situation - their lips met.  
  
To Monica, a thousand falling stars could not do what this kiss did to her. It was warm and loving and passionate, it was better than any of her dreams... she was drowning in it, savoring it... unbelievable, it was...  
  
And after this kiss - there were more kisses to follow...  
  
"Monica," Robin whispered.  
  
"Robin," she whispered back. "Why did you keep me waiting so long?"  
  
"You - " he didn't dare to ask.  
  
Monica's lips curled into a true smile, for the first time in a week. "Didn't you know?"  
  
"I thought... but never mind. Monica, you don't know what it means to me."  
  
Monica giggled. "I think I do..."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As she entered the kitchen the following morning, Monica's mind was still filled with happy thoughts about Robin. But they vanished immediately as she saw Mrs. McKay face - and she knew exactly what had happened.  
  
Her parents had sent an owl! She could tell by the way Mrs. McKay was looking at the piece of paper.  
  
Robin was standing next to his mother, watching Monica worriedly.  
  
"Monica," said Mrs. McKay, "come over here, please."  
  
Monica came closer. Oh, how she hated her parents that moment. Something good had finally happened to her, and they simply had to ruin it!  
  
"Look," said Robin's mother, and Monica looked at the familiar handwriting of her father.  
  
----Dear Mr. and Mrs. McKay,  
  
I'm Monica's father, Draco Malfoy. We met last summer. Monica and I had a serious fight, and she ran away from home. Can you please tell me if you have any idea where she might be? I thought she might have gone to your place, because I know she's friends with your son.  
  
Please answer as soon as possible, because my wife and I are extremely worried.  
  
Yours sincerely, Draco Malfoy -----  
  
As angry as she was with her father, Monica thanked him in her mind for not telling Robin's parents exactly why she had run away. Enough people knew the truth already, in her opinion.  
  
"Mom," said Robin, "I've already told you, Monica had her reasons."  
  
"I can't," said Mrs. McKay. "I'm really, really sorry, dear," she said to Monica, "but I know what your parents feel like. Robin's older brother, my eldest son Jerry, ran away from home when he was sixteen, because we had forbidden him to see some girl he liked. I can tell you my husband and I went ballistic. I'm sorry," she repeated, "but I'll have to tell your father where you are."  
  
Surprisingly, Monica did not find this information too upsetting. She had thought about this whole running-away thing during the night, and felt a little ashamed of herself. Now that she realized how worried her parents must be, she was even more ashamed.  
  
"It's okay," she replied quietly, "don't worry."  
  
Mrs. McKay patted her on the shoulder. "Good girl," she said, "I'm glad you understand. You two go and have some breakfast. I'll send an owl to your parents, they'll probably be here soon."  
  
Monica and Robin sat down to eat, and Monica discovered, to her surprise, that she was very hungry.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It wasn't even half an hour before Monica's parents showed up. They both threw themselves on their daughter.  
  
"Oh my God, Monica!" Hermione sobbed. "I can't believe it... you're fine... you're perfectly fine... oh, Monica..."  
  
"I think the three of us need to talk," said Draco firmly.  
  
Monica got the hint and turned to say goodbye to Robin and his mother. She gave Robin a quick kiss, whispered "See ya soon," shook his mother's hand and the three of them Apparated to the Malfoy Manor.  
  
"Let's all sit down," Draco suggested, and they sat.  
  
"Where are Sapphire and Samantha?" asked Monica.  
  
"We sent them to Ron and Luna's," Draco replied, "we didn't want them to know you were missing, so we told them you went out for shopping."  
  
"Good," Monica sighed. She didn't want her sisters to know.  
  
There was a silence of several minutes. Monica didn't dare to look at her parents in the eye. Eventually she broke down.  
  
"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry," she said quietly.  
  
They didn't reply.  
  
"I am," she repeated. "I shouldn't have run away... I know I shouldn't have. I just didn't think straight before I ran. I was to angry to think at all. I promise never to do that again."  
  
"Honey, we're sorry too," said Hermione with tears and her eyes. "I'm so sorry I never told you. I should have told you. After all, you were the one thing that made me happy during those six months before your father returned. In fact, you were the one thing that made me happy since the moment I found out I was pregnant, because I was going through a very difficult time, but the thought of having you made me happy."  
  
Monica smiled. "Can I ask you one thing?"  
  
"Sure, sweetie."  
  
"Can YOU tell me this whole story, so I can hear the actual truth and not rumors? I want you to tell me this."  
  
And they told her. They both told her about their own childhood, and how much they hated each other. They told her about the Philosopher's Stone; about the Chamber of Secrets; about Sirius Black; about the return of Voldemort; about the Order of the Phoenix; about the Dark War and how Voldemort was eventually killed. Then they told her how Draco had changed throughout the summer holiday after his father had been killed, and how they both fell in love and how close they were, until this critical night.  
  
As Monica was listening with her eyes wide with interest, her parents told her how Hermione had found out she was pregnant and about Draco's reaction; how angry Harry and Ron were, and how they learned to accept the fact that Hermione was going to have the baby; how much Draco suffered during the pregnancy months and even after it; about the birth and how happy Hermione was with Baby Monica; how Narcissa found out the truth and forced Draco to go and talk to Hermione; how there was an immidiate connection between Draco and Monica, and how Hermione turned him down; how Draco went to ask Ginny what to do, went back to Hermione and how she finally forgave him.  
  
After all this long, long story, Monica felt the relief falling upon her like a heavy sack of potatoes. She suddenly realized how tired she was. Thanking her parents and hugging them, she went to bed anf fell asleep immediately. Her sleep was peaceful, like only babies and people who had revealed a seventeen-years-secret can sleep.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was midnight.  
  
Draco and Monica were sitting on the roof, as they had done so many times before, since Monica was very young. She was not sitting on his lap this time, because she was much too old, but she was leaning on him and he was hugging her.  
  
"...and then I saw you right there, inside this baby-carriage," Draco was telling her. "It was the first time I saw you, and it was the most amazing thing in the world. You were looking at me with those big, bron eyes of yours, those eyes that reminded me so much of you mother's eyes... and I fell in love with you immediately. I knew I simply had to be with you, to see you every day."  
  
"I've always wanted blue eyes, actually," said Monica quietly. "Because I wanted to resemble you..."  
  
"Oh, Monica, you do resemble me," said Draco lovingly and played with her hair. "Just look at yourself in the mirror. I knew you loved me too at once, because of the way you were looking at me. And since then, we had this special connection between us. Do you feel it too, Monica?" he pressed a gentle kiss to her head.  
  
"Of course I do," Monica responded. "I've always felt it. I love you, Dad. I'm so glad things are right again between us."  
  
"Look!" Draco suddenly said, pointing to the sky.  
  
Monica raised her eyes, and saw the falling star. She closed her eyes and silently expressed the gratitude she was feeling... for everything. For the loving family she had, for the truth finally revealed, for her new love with Robin... but above all, for the extraordinary relationship she had with this precious father of hers. And as she hugged him again, she felt more loved than she had ever felt in her entire life.  
  
THE END.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: And this is how it ends... I must say goodbye to Monica now, and I've become almost a fan of hers, because she's the first main character who is original, my own. I really love her character, too.  
  
So, anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did, and that you loved Monica like me. Thanks to everyone who convinced me to write a sequel, and thank you all for the great, great reviews!!!  
  
See ya in the next story!  
  
Love you all  
  
Roni. 


End file.
